Harry learns to fight, for real
by Lady Danyrie August
Summary: Harry is finally being given the chance to learn the skills he will need to defeat Voldemort. Will it be enough?


I do not own Harry Potter, I only own the original character presented herein.

The small pub had a thick, pungent scent. Beer and sweat intermingled to form an oppressive cloud hanging over the room. In a corner of this dingy backwater sat an unusual pair of people. One of these people looked completely at home here, black cape covering their body and shadowing their face. The other couldn't have looked more out of place. He was a very old man, with a magnificent flowing beard of white, and hair as long running down his back.

He was, in fact, none other than Albus Dumbledore.

The woman spoke first. "So what's the job, _friend_?" Everything about her, from the set of her shoulders, her eyes and all the way to her tone was cold and angry. Of course, he should have, and did, genius that he was, suspect that this was going to be her reaction to meeting him here. He had been purposefully vague in the request letter he had sent, and had even forced himself to write it in a different style to his own writing, which she could have recognised.

He bowed his head slightly, and showed his open palms, in essence surrendering. She scoffed at the gesture, but he ignored it.

"I need your help to protect my school. The Dark Lord Voldemort has returned, just this year past, and now the Ministry believes I am insane. They are actively attempting to usurp my position as Headmaster by installing a rather unpleasant woman to hold the Dark Arts post. Undoubtedly they will use her to control the daily lives and learnings of my students. While I deal with that, minor, threat, I need you to guard against the very real and tangible possibility that Voldemort will attack the school himsel."

The woman said nothing, only raising an eyebrow in clear questioning.

"He is after a boy amongst the students, Harry Potter."

"Ah"

So that was it. She was to play bodyguard to some brat? Fantastic. What a way to live for a world-class outlaw. At least the pay would be decent... for a crappy job, anyway. She supposed it was technically safer than living out in the wilder parts of the wizarding world but she still held reservations. If rumours were to be believed then Voldemort was one of the most deadly wizards to ever live in that part of the world. As confident as she was in her skills, she wasn't alive for lack of caution.

Albus finally looked her fully in the face, finding himself uncharacteristically unnerved by her firey eyes. Since when had she had orange eyes? He could have sworn they were blue moments ago. He laid his elbows gently upon the tabletop, steeping his fingers together.

"Will you do this for me?"

She grunted noncommitally, before sighing and continuing; "Fine. Only because it's your student and not your own personal business. You'd better have a better explanation come September 1st, old man."

She abruptly stood to leave, tossing a coin to the barkeep, before laying something else down on the table in front of Albus. He glanced down to see a round piece of rock with a rune he didn't recognise carved in it. He carefully used his wand to check for any dangerous enchantments, she wasn't fond of him. Discovering nothing threatening, he gingerly picked it up. Nothing happened, so he placed it inside his robes. He looked up again, knowing that she would be gone.

"Now what am I to do with you this year, Harry Potter...?"

Harry Potter could hardly contain his excitement. It had been far too long since he'd stepped foot inside the grand castle called Hogwarts. He had missed almost everything about it, from the moving staircases to the ghosts and even the strict and demanding teachers.

It was his fifth year here, and even though he was apprehensive about the year ahead, and had been cut off from his friends all summer, he was as excited as he had been the first time he'd stepped through the doors to the Great Hall. Voldemort might be back, but Hogwarts had such a timeless, untouchable feeling to it that he felt safe here.

As was his usual custom, he looked up at the staff table to see the new teachers. Anger flooded him as he saw that one of the Ministry women who had voted in favour of his conviction was sitting up there, in a disgusting pink sweater no less.

There was an empty place at the table. He had no idea to whom it might belong, save possibly Hagrid, who was ostensibly missing from the High Table.

During the sorting, he barely listened to the names and houses being called out. His eyes and attention were fixed on the High Table. Every so often, Dumbledore would glance almost anxiously at the empty seat, as if expecting someone or something to be there. Harry had never seen the man this nervous before.

Finally, dinner was finished and Professor Dumbledore stood up to make a few announcements before dismissing the students.

"Welcome! To all of our new students, welcome, and to our old hands, welcome back! Before we settle in for the night, we have some notable changes to our staff. I am delighted to introduce to you Professor Dolores Umbridge, who will be filling the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! Please make her feel welcome."

A soft smattering of applause echoed around the room as the squat woman stood and put on a horrible simpering smile. Harry's hands didn't come together for the toady little witch. Dumbledore continued, seemingly unaware of the less than warm welcome that Umbridge had received.

"Professor Hagrid, who has up till now been taking Care of Magical Creatures, is on leave. His groundskeeper duties and class are being temporarily handled by Professor Grubbly-Plank."

A slightly more enthusiastic applause began at this news; the old witch was a well-respected teacher in the community and many of the students had heard about her from their parents.

"And fina..."

Tap tap tap.

A gentle chiming echoed through the Great Hall and all were silent as Professor Dumbledore turned around to see Professor Umbridge standing, a sickly sweet look firmly in place, her spoon inches from her glass.

Ron leaned over to Harry and muttered "Who does she think she is, interrupting Dumbledore?"

Harry simply shook his head. He didn't really want to know what went on in the head of that toad.

Fate, however, is not without a sense of humour. To a brief but noticable flash of relief on Dumbledore's face, the doors to the Great Hall were pushed open, successfully distracting Umbridge from her speech.

Standing in the doorway was quite the imposing figure. They were tall, clad in black dragon-scale pants and jacket, and wore a large cloak that looked like it weighed as much as she did. Of course, it was the scar on her face that drew the most attention.

The newcomer stood still just inside the Great Hall, watching the Ministry witch carefully. Umbridge, embarrassed and knowing her moment had been properly spoiled, retreated to her seat silently.

Dumbledore beamed at the students, and resumed his speech from earlier.

"Finally, we have a new groundsperson working to keep you all safe from harm, no matter what that harm may be. Please welcome Madam Ryan."

Leading the applause himself, Dumbledore seemed to somehow get the students to clap for this intimidating stranger. The woman moved forward in total silence, not looking to either side but rather directly ahead at the old man. Her gaze seemed calculating and sharp. Harry watched as she approached his place and her eyes flicked to him for a brief moment before she continued to stare down Dumbledore.

She walked brusquely past the elderly man without turning her head as he whispered to her and took her seat.

As the students were dismissed, the woman stayed perfectly still, with her eyes fixed on Harry. He turned around, feeling her staring into the back of his head. The savage grin that stretched across her face was scary enough that he turned around and kept moving faster than he'd ever left the Hall before.

The next morning brought no sign of the mysterious new groundskeeper for the fifth years. Hermione did remark on her potentially time-consuming position, but Ron didn't understand how anything could make you miss a meal.

"Honestly, Ron, just because you think with your stomach doesn't mean everyone does! Besides, she's a professional. She clearly has a great deal of dedication to her job!"

Ron looked at her, puzzled. Deciding it wasn't worth trying to talk to Hermione at the moment, he turned instead to his other best friend.

"Hey Harry, mate. Where do you reckon that Ryan woman came from anyway? She doesn't look British."

Harry thought for a moment. "I don't know, but if I had to guess, maybe from somewhere far south? She looked kind of savage and I read that some magic tribes in Africa are still really wild."

Ron nodded, his mouth full, for once not spraying food on everyone. Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's all very well, Harry, but she doesn't have black skin! How could she have been born in an African tribe if she has pale skin?"

Glancing at Hermione for a moment, he then turned to his plate with a deep interest in his sausages quickly developing. He hadn't thought of that, but now that she had pointed it out it seemed so obvious!

Suddenly Ron piped up, his mouth mercifully empty. "Hey, Dumbledore isn't there either!"

Harry whipped his head around to look at the high table. Sure enough, the bearded wizard was missing from his usual seat. He wasn't sure why he was surprised, after all Dumbledore wasn't there at every meal, but an ominous feeling was creeping into him. He somehow knew the absence of the groundskeeper and Dumbledore had something to do with him.

"Do I understand you? Of course I do. Do I think it's necessary? No. But... I guess it can't hurt. You're bloody lucky I don't have any real groundskeeping duties."

Dumbledore shook his head to himself as the fiery woman turned on her heel and walked out. He had to get Harry up to his office and explain his peculiar new ... ah... lessons. He didn't want this to escalate, and his only other option for teaching Harry was Severus. The man was not ideal, his hatred of James blinded him in the same way Harry's hatred of him did.

Waving his wand just so, he called forth a Patronus. "Minerva, send Harry Potter to my office. I enjoy chocolate eclairs."

The ghostly phoenix nodded to him and flew off, through the wall no less.

Dumbledore steeped his fingers and closed his eyes, deep in thought. He imagined that it had only been about forty minutes when Harry arrived at his office. The boy entered nervously, as if he expected to be in trouble.

"Harry, take a seat." He maintained a very neutral tone. It was important Harry did not get worked up about this. Harry sat opposite Dumbledore, and the boy's eyes flickered back and forth from Dumbledore's face, to his hands, to something on the wall behind him. If he had to guess, it was the Sorting Hat.

"Now I would assume that by now you have guessed that someone as... intimidating as Madam Ryan is not here to simply sweep floors or care for the school chickens. Am I correct in that assumption?"

Harry nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly, his eyebrows pinched together in the middle.

"You are quite correct, of course. I have acquired the services of the good Madam for something very different. Over the course of this year, you will be taking specialised classes with her, instead of your regular Defense against the Dark Arts."

The boy's eyes opened wide, unsure if what he was hearing was correct.

"I don't have to go to Umbridge's class?"

"Professor Umbridge, Harry."

"Yeah, her! I don't have to go?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "You'll instead be taking a more difficult course in practical Defense."

Harry sat back a little in his seat, a relieved expression across his face. "Wow..."

The old wizard looked critically at the boy. If he was scared, he didn't show it. Not that Dumbledore could ever blame the boy if he was scared. The things that woman had seen and done beggared the imagination.

"She will be returning to my office momentarily to take you to your first lesson. She will explain everything else you need to know, I am sure."

Harry nodded and the two lapsed into silence, the boy letting his mind and eyes wander to avoid the uncomfortable atmosphere and the old man silently gazing over his half-moon's at Harry.

The door finally slammed shut, having opened silently, and very light footfalls echoed around the room before two hands appeared on the back of Harry's chair. The boy looked up to see the woman leaning over him, looking directly at Dumbledore.

"Is he ready to go?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Then come on boy."

Her tone brooked no argument nor even questioning. She strode towards the door then turned to watch as Harry jumped to his feet and raced to catch up.

As the two disappeared from the office, Dumbledore finally let out a frustrated sigh. He was genuinely worried that Fae might by too harsh on the boy, but he supposed it was the lesser of two evils. A quick vision of the dragon he had first met her while fighting popped into his mind, but it quickly vanished.

The strange woman led Harry at a ridiculous pace through the empty corridors, before finally getting sick of waiting for him to catch up and simply dragging him by the collar.

They reached a locked door, Harry recognising the third floor but otherwise being lost as to where they had ended up. With a flick of her finger, the door opened. Harry found himself released suddenly and collapsed to the floor, landing on his hands. Pushing himself up quickly, he discovered a strange sight. The room he was looking into was almost completely bare, just a simple bed in the far left corner and a desk opposite. The woman stood in the middle of the room and pointed silently at the chair that was now pulled out from the desk.

Harry cautiously walked in and sat, not taking his eyes off of her. She didn't stop watching him either, and it was clearly uncomfortable for both of them. For a moment, he considered asking her a question, but his subconscious mind threw up a warning that it would probably not be appreciated.

Eventually she broke the silence.

"So you're the one I'm supposed to teach how to fight. You look bloody scrawny. You need glasses to see clearly. Your magic reserves are weak at best and you have next to no control."

Harry bristled, especially at her straight-faced delivery of the negative evaluation, before her face split into one of her savage grins, an expression he would come to loath.

"Perfect! You're a clean slate boy, I can build you from the ground up. First things first, what do you know about fighting wizards?"

He stuttered for a moment as he tried to answer quickly. "Uh, I did a practice duel once."

She barked laughter at him, and he blushed, embarrassed.

"Ok, so nothing. I can work with that. Scenario for you: A wizard is sprinting towards you screaming blood curses. How do you react if you want to live?"

He frowned. He remembered something about a shield charm, perhaps Hermione mentioned it?

"Uh... isn't there, I dunno, like a shield charm of some kind?"

"Don't answer a question with another question."

"Oh, right. A shield charm! "

She shook her head.

"Wrong. A shield charm would be instantly shattered by a blood curse and you'd be hit and die. You would instead throw yourself to one side or the other if they were too close to safely run from normally, or you would sprint in a circle around them, while firing your own spells back at them. Why is that?"

Harry scratched his head, thinking. This was way too hard! There was no way he could... wait... the answer couldn't be that simple, right?

"Uh... the shield charm isn't strong enough?"

Surprisingly, she nodded. Harry felt a tiny bit of hope for himself well up, only to have it dispelled by her next words.

"That's only half true. The most important thing is movement. Duel's are terrible at training people to combat magically, because both people are restricted to standing still and throwing mostly non-damaging curses at each other. If your opponent can't hit you, it doesn't matter how strong their attacks are, right?"

Inspiration dawned on Harry as he began to see why this 'lesson' would help him. She wasn't teaching him to fight so much as she was teaching him to survive! His interest well and truly captured, he listened carefully as she continued.

"Now, seeing as we can't really go all-out inside the castle, we are going to take a little trip to a place that's more open. Take my hand."

Harry hesitantly started to reach his hand up, before she grew impatient and grabbed it. He felt an instant jerk in his stomach and his body compressed, stretching and twisting in awful ways. Then in another moment it was over, and he collapsed to the ... grass? It didn't register yet that he was in a field, as he was too busy puking his guts out. Meanwhile, Madam Ryan chuckled.

"First time Apparition huh? Nasty bloody way to travel. Plenty of room out here though... should be good for a practice spar."

Harry weakly clambered to his feet, staring at her in disbelief.

"You mean... you actually want me to fight you!"

His tone was full of incredulity, and his face was pale, although that may have been an after effect of the Apparition. She simply nodded.

"Now I'm not going to use magic against you yet, or even a weapon. Believe me, I won't have to throw very much at you for you to fall apart. I'll just try to restrain you, ok?"

He nodded, and pulled out his wand. Then a thought struck him. "What do I do?"

She made a snorting noise that for some reason he found adorable coming from such a fierce looking person, not that he would ever admit it out loud. "You know how to Stupefy someone? That's what you're going to try to do to me. Now... Begin!"

Immediately, she disappeared from her place. The grass they were standing in was over a metre tall. Maybe not enough to hide them standing tall, but easy enough to crouch in. He decided to do just that, moving through the grass with his head ducked low and his back hunched.

At least there wasn't much wind, he could probably hear her coming if... Damn. If he was moving, he couldn't hear her, plus she could probably hear him. He froze below the level of the grass and waited patiently, but anxiously. Listening, as it turned out, was incredibly nerve-wracking. Surrounded as he was by grass and having no idea where she was, he felt incredibly exposed, like a deer that knows a wolf is nearby.

She lay flat on the ground, he'd passed her very briefly but now he had stopped. "Good boy" she whispered, and she slowly moved herself to a standing position. Timing her gait carefully, she moved sporadically, not letting a recognisable pattern of sound form.

She could see, very faintly, the depression he was crouched in. If there was more wind, she probably would have missed it herself. He had been smart, to stop moving and listen for her, but the grass was thick enough that by the time she was close enough to be seen through it, hearing wouldn't matter. If he had stood, he would have seen her coming and been able to either run or attack. All this passed through her mind in mere moments.

For five minutes, which must have seemed like an eternity to the boy, she moved silently closer. When she judged she was close enough, she silently took out her wand and conjured a rabbit, which landed on his other side and frantically raced through the grass. He immediately turned to face the sound, standing with his wand raised, only for her to smack him hard on the back of the head and proclaim "dead".

He felt the pain of the hit and turned around. She was standing there looking... well, emotionless as she usually did. He knew he had made a mistake moving towards the sound the moment he stood, but he did not know how she had done that. It was a peculiar and awkward moment, her standing and staring blankly at him while he tried to figure out if he was in some sort of trouble. Then she disappeared again.

"Oh crap!" He exclaimed, and he took off through the grass again. He understood that they weren't done and that he would have to try harder this time...

He was exhausted and bloodied after she was finished with his 'lesson' for the day. After the first round of their training, the crazy woman had got far rougher, throwing him violently to the ground and restraining him. He was sporting a rather impressive bruise on his temple from her fist (she had somehow contrived to not have a single mark on her... any new ones anyway).

She watched with next to no sympathy as he collapsed on the ground and grabbed him by the collar, Apparating back to Hogwarts.

She threw him unceremoniously into the chair and turned to look at him. He was slumped over, clearly exhausted and the bruise and various other minor bodily harm she had inflicted on him was obvious. She silently raised her hand and waved it in front of his face, weaving some minor healing magic into his body so that he wouldn't feel the pain. He stirred in the chair, slowly raising his head to look at her.

"Normally I wouldn't have stopped your pain but you need to learn fast. I don't have time for you to slack off because it hurts. Just know that I'm going to push you hard and fast, so you'll need to be extra careful of getting seriously injured. Now get off to your class if you've got one, I don't care. Just go."

The boy nodded and stood, walking with a slight limp out of the door. She watched him leave, then collapsed on the bed as soon as the door closed behind him.

"Damn..." she muttered. "He may be a quick learner, but it's so tiring being around kids...".

WELL HELLO THERE, OH READER MINE! It's been far too long since I've consistently posted and unfortunately this trend will have to continue because of how busy I am, but I'll post every now and then when I've got something worth uplaoding. This new story is more of a prrof-of-concept piece and I want to know your thoughts on it! It'll be interesting to see what people think!


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